His eyes flickered downward briefly to hers, and he saw no mercy in the steel gray. Nervously he sidled away from the door.
“Pa!” Peter’s plaintive wail trembled in the hall, and as Alaina laid her hand on the doorknob, Olie thundered in from the kitchen, a napkin still tucked in the neck of his shirt and his cheeks bulging with a healthy portion of his meal.
Her hand still on the latch, Alaina turned to face him, a quizzical brow raised to silently ask his intent. Olie could no more lay a hand to her than could the others, and the three men stood helplessly by while Alaina pushed open the study door and entered.
The drapes were tightly drawn, and the sickening reek of whiskey and stale cigar smoke was enough to make Alaina choke and cough. Cole had been pacing in a small circle along the edge of a round rug before the fireplace, but at the intrusion of her cough, he jerked about, finding her through the gloom of the room.
“Dammit, Alaina,” he barked. “Get out of here!”
Closing the door firmly behind her, she leaned against it and let her gaze roam over him derisively. What she saw was hardly the neat, well groomed man she had always known him to be. His face bore the stubble of a half week’s growth, and a long dressing robe hung in loose folds to his ankles. His eyes were red rimmed, puffed and bloodshot, his mouth distorted in a grimace as he braced himself on the black cane.
“Isn’t it time you come to your senses, Doctor Latimer?” she inquired.
“Leave me be, woman!” he commanded hoarsely. He swept his cane across the surface of the table which stood between them, sending the articles it held crashing to the floor. “Get out, or I’ll have the servants throw you out!”
“That will do you no good, sir,” she answered serenely. “They are now more afraid of me than they are of you.”
“As I see! The lot of them cannot keep one wee wench from this room!” Rashly he boasted, “So if I cannot trust my servants, then I will tend to you myself!” But as he advanced toward her, Alaina became amazed by the awkwardness of his gait. He all but dragged his right leg behind him, and he made his way slowly, his teeth gritted against the pain.
“Cole?” She began to fear for him and stepped forward to meet him. “Let me help you.”
“No!” he cried, moving away from her reaching hand. Embarrassed by his unsightly appearance, he ducked away, but his cane slipped on the bare wood floor, and he stumbled against her. Her weight too meager to stop him, Alaina fell with him. As he hit the floor, Cole rolled away from her, writhing in agony, grinding his teeth to keep from groaning aloud. Alaina rose to her knees beside him, then sat back on her heels, staring in astonishment at his right thigh which the parted robe revealed. He was naked beneath the garment, for a pair of trousers would not have slipped over his swollen thigh which was half again as large as his left. The bruised, discolored look of the limb roused a new anxiety in her, and her fingers trembled as she reached out to touch the purple, distended flesh.
“Good lord, Alaina,” Cole choked hoarsely as he struggled to cover himself. “You unman me.”
“Is this why you stayed in here?” she demanded incredulously. “Because of your leg?”
“I can do nothing but walk to keep the blood flowing in the leg and pray that I don’t lose it.”
Her emotions were mixed between relief and anger that he had so foolishly secluded himself from her. “And you believed that I would think less of you because of this?” She flung out a hand to indicate his leg, her tone one of disbelief.
“You would not have been the first.”
“Like I told you before, Yankee, I ain’t Roberta!” With that, she came to her feet and, stepping to the door, snatched it open. “Olie! Miles! Peter! Come in here. Now!”
“Alaina!” Cole barked, struggling to rise. “Close that door!”
Alaina saw Mrs. Garth coming across the hall with a fresh supply of brandy and jerked her head toward the stairs. “Take it upstairs to the bedroom.”
“Blast you, woman!” Cole bellowed. “I need that to kill the pain!”
His wife ignored him and stepped aside as the three men entered the study. “Take the doctor upstairs and put him in his bed immediately.”
“Like hell you will!” Cole thundered. “I’ll dismiss the lot of you if you come near me!”
Olie’s gaze shifted uneasily toward Alaina who retorted boldly, “Then I’ll hire you all back again.” She waved a hand to her husband. “Now stop this shilly-shallying and take him upstairs. And for the sake of heaven, be brave about it! You’re three against one!”
Cole brandished his cane like a weapon, and his raving curses burned Peter’s ears, prompting Miles and Olie to glance uncertainly from the master of the house to the mistress, each hoping that the wrath about to descend upon them would not be of a permanent nature. Either way, they were bound to catch hell.
Olie stepped forward, nervously rubbing the tip of his nose with a forefinger, and peered down at his employer. “She say we take yu up. I t’ink we take yu up!”
A long string of oaths christened them as Olie and Peter lifted him and Miles carefully supported his leg. As soon as Cole was deposited safely in his bed, he found himself faced with a new threat, that of being at his wife’s mercy. She began giving orders as if she were born to command.
“Mrs. Garth, you may air out the study and see that it’s given a proper cleaning. Peter, fetch hot water for a bath and put a kettle of the same here on the hearth. I’ll need some linens, too. Miles, you and Olie may bring the doctor’s chair from the study up here. He’ll be needing it close by for a while. And I want a bucketful of snow and ice, preferably before any of it melts.”
Cole had no time to question her instructions before the servants hurried off to see them carried out. Warily he asked, “Now that you have me up here, what are your intentions?”
Alaina folded back the bedcovers and stacked several pillows beneath his knee. “I would not presume to tell you what to do, my love, but it seems to me that a doctor should take better care of himself than you appear to be doing.”
“You have not answered my question,” Cole pressed.
“Would you like to take your robe off before I start the compresses? I’ll fetch you a fresh nightshirt if you wish.”
“Compresses?” Cole raised himself apprehensively.
“Hot and cold compresses to make the swelling go down. That much I know about home remedies.” She gestured casually. “The robe, please. I plan to see to the entire man. After we’ve tended your leg, I’ll shave and bathe you.”
“I’m not an invalid, madam,” he assured her. “I can bathe myself.”
“You’ll have difficulty getting into the tub. It will be simpler if you’re bathed here.”
His brows crinkled thoughtfully. “All over?”
Alaina’s eyes raised slowly to his. “I think you can manage a few places.”
“You’ve crushed my hopes.”
“Serves you right,” she chided with a smile twinkling at the corner of her mouth. “Anyone who would walk on a leg like that deserves nothing more than a good ear washing.”
Cole had second thoughts as to her charity when she slapped the frigid bulk of snow onto his leg, almost bringing him straight out of the bed. And if that was not enough, she nearly scalded him again, this time with a steaming towel still dripping wet from the kettle.
“Be careful with that thing!” he yelped. “You could end our hopes for a family altogether.”
“I’ll try to be more careful,” Alaina apologized, sweetly contrite. “But I don’t think you have anything to worry about, my love.”
Olie and Miles wrestled in Cole’s large leather chair as Alaina withdrew the lukewarm linen from his leg, replacing it with more snow. Covering his nakedness, Cole watched the men. The removal of his chair from the study foretold a change in his habits. He could no longer closet himself in seclusion, but then, a more appealing condition appeared in the offering. To be ensconced in a bedroom with a fetching wen
ch was not altogether displeasing.
Though not tutored in the ways of cures or medicines, Alaina found her meager knowledge successful. By evening the swelling had gone down, and with his leg carefully propped, Cole was able to rest peaceably. To keep Alaina pacified, he stayed in bed through the next day, but no amount of cajoling would keep him bedridden the following morning.
Chapter 39
DECEMBER had come upon them with a flourish, and the north wind blew its snow-laden breath across the land, cloaking the countryside with a mantle of white. Mindy, who had never known the import of the season, listened with enraptured awe as Alaina spun tales of fact and fancy about the event. In anticipation, the child hung a stocking from the parlor mantel and eagerly awaited the day, while Alaina diligently fashioned the remains of the charred black and yellow evening dress into a tiny gown for the new china doll that Cole had purchased for the girl. He constructed a wooden crib for the old rag doll and placed the gifts away in the attic in readiness for the holiday.
Horace Burr journeyed back for a visit one day, and thereafter Cole held tight rein on his own impatience to present a very special gift to his young wife on Christmas morn. Alaina planned her own surprise beyond the smoking jacket she made for her husband, and in preparation for the more important gift sent a servant to bid Braegar Darvey to stop by the house for a few moments while Cole was in St. Cloud attending to business.
It was not in her scheme that her husband should finish his business early and return home. The presence of Braegar’s horse was cause enough to tweak Cole’s temper, and to find the parlor door closed against intrusion, set all the old jealousies astir. If the man’s friendship had not held him from pressing Roberta into an affair, then surely with Alaina, being the more desirable of the two, the Irishman would be wont to press his attentions upon her all the more readily. Cole was determined that such a thing would not happen again.
He brushed past the waiting butler and pushed the sliding doors of the parlor wide. Braegar had been leaning forward in his chair, his head close to Alaina’s and a drink dangling from his fingers, but as Cole opened the doors, he straightened and leaned back, sipping from the glass with casual demeanor.
Cole handed his hat to Miles and shrugged out of his greatcoat. Favoring the two with a sneering leer, he leaned his cane against his leg and began to work his gloves off. Hesitantly Alaina rose and, smoothing her gown self-consciously, moved toward her husband, her eyes downcast and a warm blush pinkening her cheeks.
“By God,” Cole rasped, unable to find innocent cause for her obvious dismay except that of guilt. He glared at Braegar accusingly. “Every time I leave this house, I return to find you in it sniffing after my wife. From your zealous attentions, I would say you haven’t had a woman for some time.”
Alaina’s eyes widened and snapped steel gray with rage. “Cole! How can you say such a thing?”
“Because I know the bastard!”
“I invited him here,” she grittingly stated.
Cole stared at her, an array of fleeting emotions crossing his face. The spurs of jealousy were sharp and pricked him to a painful depth. Huskily he answered her. “Then perhaps I’d better hear more of this, madam, because I know you can’t be wanting for attention.”
The insinuation stung Alaina at a moment when she was most vulnerable.
“You utterly boorish oaf!” she choked and, bursting into sobs, fled the room and raced across the hall. She flung her cloak about her shoulder and slammed the door behind her as she left the house.
Cole would have gone after her, but with quick, running steps, Braegar caught him at the front door and, having the advantage of at least a hundred pounds, slammed him face forward against it.
“Your wife sought out my services, Doctor Latimer,” the Irishman snarled, “because she wanted to be sure of the signs before broaching the subject with you. Like it or not, man, you will become a father in the summer.”
Cole’s eyes grew wide and, with a burst of strength, he pushed the heavier man aside. Reaching again for the door, he flung it open. As he ran out onto the porch, the cutter was just moving away from the house. Alaina cracked the whip to urge the mare into a faster pace, ignoring his cry.
“Alaina! Wait!”
The only mount present was Braeger’s, and that one’s ownership gave Cole no pause whatsoever. For a man of hampered ability, he was down the steps in a thrice and, snatching the reins from the hitching post, swung onto the horse’s back. The stallion skidded on the hardpacked snow and ice as it pranced in a wide circle, skittish beneath the unfamiliar weight. Cole’s bootheels dug into his sides, and the steed caught the full import of the message. He leaped forward and charged after the fleeing cutter. The stallion drew abreast of the racing conveyance, but when Cole shouted for Alaina to stop, she ignored him and cracked the whip harder. It was a breakneck race down the slippery lane, and Cole urged his mount on ever faster until he could crowd the mare into the deeper snow and brush that grew alongside the road. The mare was forced to slow and finally the cutter, plunging through the low, snow-covered growth, dragged her to a halt. Braegar’s stallion pranced several steps farther in a splendid neck-arched display despite Cole’s best efforts. Impatiently he jerked the headstrong stud into a reluctant halt and dismounted.
Alaina had been caught in an upheaved plume of snow and came to her feet, brushing its fine powder from her face and cloak as she gasped against its icy sting. Breathlessly she sobbed, “You blithering, bluebellied—cutthroat excuse for Yankee sawbones!”
She seized the reins, trying to urge the mare out of the snowdrift, but Cole ran toward them.
“Alaina, calm down before you hurt yourself,” he cried. Nearing the frightened animal’s head, he reached up to grab the bridle. But as he did so, his feet slipped, and he slammed into the mare’s shoulder. The horse reared, jerking the bridle from his grasp. Cole fell flat on his back beneath the steed’s pawing hooves, and with a strangled cry, Alaina came to her feet. The animal came down, and her hoof landed squarely on Cole’s right thigh. There was an audible snap as the bone gave, then the brittle air was set atremble as a hoarse scream of pain broke from Cole’s lips.
Frantic, Alaina scrambled out of the cutter and, heedless of any danger to herself, ran around in front of the horse, throwing up her arms with a shout until the mare sidled away from this new threat. When the animal regained the hard-packed snow of the lane, she stood snorting and trembling, though gradually she calmed. Cole rolled in agony in the snow, his teeth gnashing in pain until Alaina fell to her knees beside him and caught his twisting shoulders in her arms.
“Oh, Cole darling, be still,” she whispered urgently. “You’ll only do more damage.”
He caught the collar of her cloak and pulled her close above him, pressing his face against her bosom as he hammered his will into iron self-control.
“The beast!” he snarled through gritted teeth. “That damned evil beast! She’s cost me my leg for sure.”
“Hush, my darling,” Alaina pleaded. Slipping the skirt of her heavy cloak beneath his thinly clad back, she wrapped him in its warm confines and rolled the hood into a pillow, shivering violently as the cold wind penetrated her velvet gown. “Don’t try to move. I’m going back for help.”
“Wait!” Cole gasped, fighting the pulsing flood of agony that threatened to engulf him.
Alaina leaned toward him as he caught her hand. “I’m just going for help,” she assured him gently. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
“Alaina”—he grimaced as the tide of pain washed over him, and he struggled to resist its assault. “I’m sorry—for what I said. It’s just that—I lost you once—I don’t want to lose you again. And I cannot trust Braegar. He seduced Roberta—and got her with child—and then sent her off to some back room hovel to get rid of it.”
Understanding dawned in Alaina’s mind and swept away all the hurt she had felt at his words. Though she couldn’t believe that Braegar was of such low characte
r that he would cuckold his best friend and inadvertently kill that one’s wife, she knew that Cole believed Braegar to be guilty of all he accused.
Blinking at the moisture that blurred her vision, she snuggled the cloak more warmly about his neck. “I told you before, Yankee, I am not Roberta, and whatever she did has nothing to do with me.”
“I’ll never—make the comparison again,” he rasped, trying to smile.
“Then hold on to this thought while you’re waiting for me,” she whispered, caressing his cheek and gazing down into the clear blue of his eyes. “We’re going to have a child, and so you’ll never doubt my loyalty or love, he’ll have the biggest, brightest blue eyes on the face of this earth.”
“She!” Cole corrected. He paused a moment, gritting his teeth against the white shards of pain that were shooting up his leg, then managed a further statement. “I have a fancy for a wee daughter who has her mother’s nose and mouth.”
Alaina smiled tenderly and, brushing a soft kiss upon his chilled lips, rose to her feet. Her shoes slipped on the hard snow as she struggled toward the stallion. Catching the dangling reins, she tossed them over the mane, then grasped the high saddlehorn and placed her foot in the stirrup to haul herself astraddle, no mean feat with a full skirt. The heels of her light slippers thudded hard against the mount’s ribs until he scrambled and clawed his way up the ice-crusted lane. As soon as she came in sight of the house, she waved an arm frantically to Braegar who stood on the porch waiting the return of his mount.
“Ring the bell three times!” she shouted. “Cole’s been hurt!”
With the signal of distress pealing through the wintry air, Alaina whirled the horse about and went thundering back the way she had come. By the time Braegar came panting down the hill, she had Cole’s head cradled in her lap. The Irishman quickly doffed his greatcoat and placed it around Alaina’s shoulders, then laid his attention to the broken leg.
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